


Stung

by tattooeddevil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooeddevil/pseuds/tattooeddevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One tiny little wasp is fine. Until Dean upsets its family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stung

They’ve been running around sparring and wrestling for hours until they’re tired, sweaty and out of breath. They flop down on their backs and play “what does that cloud look like?” until their heartbeats have gone back to normal. The sun is at its highest; Dad taught them that means it’s just after noon, and they migrate to the shadow of a large tree to get out of the blazing warmth. Staring up at the massive tree with the thick, high branches, Dean gets an amazing idea.

“Hey Sam. I bet I can climb this tree all the way to the top.”

Sam scrunches up his nose in thought, making Dean roll his eyes. Even at nine, Sammy can’t just jump in but has to think everything through a thousand times before he can have some fun.

“I don’t know Dean, it’s really high.”

Dean grins smugly and puffs his chest out.

“Yeah, but I can do it. I bet you the PopTarts that are left.”

Sammy thinks for hours again and then finally nods.

“Okay. But you have to go all the way to the top!”

Dean snorts derisively.

“Of course. Now give me a boost up to the first branch.”

Sam goes to stand with his back against the thick tree trunk and twines his fingers together so they form a cup for Dean to put his foot in. Dean is a lot bigger than Sam, but Sam manages to haul him up to the first branch. Dean hefts himself up to the first branch before quickly climbing up a few more. When he looks down, Sammy’s peering up at him from what seems like miles up.

It’s really high.

Dean takes a few deep breaths before looking up at the branches above his head that lead to the top of the tree. He’s got to man up and climb already; he bragged to Sammy he could do it so now he has to do it. Even though it really is pretty high.

With another deep inhale, he grabs the branch closest above him and starts the climb. It’s hot inside the tree branches, the layers of leaves not letting in any air or wind. He’s afraid to look down, but Dean would bet he can’t see Sammy on the ground anymore.

“Dean?”

Even Sam’s voice sounds muffled.

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“Are you at the top yet? I can’t see you anymore.”

“Not yet. I think I’m about halfway.”

Which is a lie, dean has no idea how high up he is, but wishful thinking makes him say the words. He’s starting to get a little nervous, sweat breaking out on his skin, making his hands slippery. He has to rest on a thick branch for a few seconds to catch his breath and force his heart to stop beating so hard. What he really wants is to just climb down as fast as he can, but he’s not really looking forward to being mocked by Sam for the next few days. No, he has to go on and get to the top before climbing down.

Dean shakily starts ascending again, until something buzzes around his head and he has to stop and bat it away. He can’t see what it was, but it sounded like a bee or a wasp. He’s not very keen on climbing a tree filled with bees or wasps, so he takes the excuse and starts descending. Three branches down, the one bee or wasp turns into four and half a foot later, there’s at least ten of them buzzing around his head. Dean’s not afraid of a single bee or wasp, but a dozen? Not his favorite thing.

In his haste to climb down, he doesn’t really pay attention to where he puts his feet and hands. He tries to stay close to the trunk, the thickest part of the tree, so he has the most support for his weight, but then his hand lands in something softer and stickier than the tree. The buzzing intensifies by a hundred and Dean knows he’s made a huge mistake.

In seconds, his hand stings like it’s on fire. He rips his hands free from the nest in hopes of shaking the insects off, but they move with him. The searing pain travels up his arm and to his other hand. The sound around him is angry, loud, all consuming until all he can hear is the buzz of angry stingers taking their rage out on him. His hands burn, his arms feel like they’re in flames and his face starts to twinge as if being pierced by hot needles. He is so screwed.

His last coherent thought is that he should call out for Sammy to go get Dad. If he manages to get down the tree by himself, he’s gonna need help to get the wasps or bees off and get the stingers out. He opens his mouth to do so, but then his throat feels like it’s being ripped out and the words get lost in a scream. His hands slip, his body tilts and then his feet give way. Dean tries to grab hold of the first branch he passes on the way down, but his fingers are screaming with pain and all he does is scrape his arms on the sharp bark. The world turns upside down before his back hits something solid and everything goes black.

******

“... fractured wrist, two fractured ribs and a swollen throat. The anaphylactic shock should wear off soon and he should be able to breath on his own then, but for now I’d like to keep him on the respirator if that is alright with you.”

With consciousness comes pain. Searing hot, excruciating pain. His hands and arms feel like they’re being roasted over open fire, his throat burns like someone poured boiling water down it and every breath he takes is like breaking his chest over and over again. A moan gets stuck in his throat and immediately hands are all over him. It hurts like hell and he wants to cry out, but whatever is blocking his throat is preventing him from uttering the pleas to stop the pain he so desperately wants to scream out.

Suddenly the noise dulls and one clear voice reaches his ears to drown out all the rest.

“Hey buddy, it’s Dad.”

His father. Dad is here.

“I want you to calm down, okay? Can you do that for me?”

He shakes his head. he doesn’t want to disobey his father, but he’s in so much pain and he just wants it to stop.

“I know you’re hurting, son, but it’s only gonna get worse if you trash around, okay? If you keep still, it’s gonna go away.”

He nods frantically. Anything to make the pain stop, make the flames go away. A hand wraps around his shoulder and then something forces its way up his throat. He coughs and gags until it’s out, sending him into a huge coughing fit. When he’s caught his breath, his chest aches as if a monster ripped his ribs out and his heart is trying to beat out of his chest. He screams in agony, fat tears sliding down his cheeks until his Dad’s back, easing him down in the bed.

“It’s alright, buddy, you’re okay.”

A sudden warmth spreads through him and suddenly the pain eases away. His tears dry up and his heart calms and Dean is finally able to open his eyes and look at his Dad.

“Hey Dean.”

His Dad’s got red eyes like he’s been crying, but he’s smiling. Dean tries to ask what’s going on and where he is, but all that comes out is a gasp and a cough. Dad seems to understand though.

“You’re in the hospital. You got stung by wasps and fell from the tree. You scared the bejeezus out of your little brother there.”

Sammy.

Dad smiles again.

“He’s waiting outside. You had a tube down your throat to help you breathe and I didn’t want Sammy to see that. I don’t think you would like that.”

Dean blushes, but nods. He didn’t want Sammy to see him so weak and sick. At the same time, he really wants to see Sam and make sure he’s okay.

“You want me to call him in?”

Dean nods and watches Dad gesture at the window, where a nurse nods back and says something to someone too small to be seen through the window. Not two seconds later, the door flings open and Sammy flies in. He throws himself towards Dean, but Dad manages to catch him before he crushes Dean’s already broken ribs. Sammy struggles against his grip and wails, tears leaking down his face.

“Dad! Dad, let me go, I wanna go to Dean. Dean!”

Dean watches in shock as a few tears escape Dad’s eyes too and how he cuddles Sam against him.

“You can’t right now, buddy. Dean’s ribs are broken, remember? You’ll hurt him if you hug him.”

That calms Sam down a little, making him frown in thought. He then grabs Dean’s good hand from where it’s resting on the bed and squeezes it tight. He fixes his big, wet eyes on Dean pleadingly.

“Is this okay, Dean? I’m not hurting you?”

Dean smiles as reassuringly as he can.

“No, Sammy, you’re not hurting me.”

Sam cuddles up to Dad with a yawn, never letting go of Dean’s hand.

“Okay. I’m gonna stay right here until you’re better. Right, Dad?”

Dad chuckles and presses a kiss to Sam’s head.

“Right. Until Dean’s all better.”

Dean falls asleep with his good hands still clutched in Sammy’s and his father’s hand resting on his head. He’ll be okay.


End file.
